Call of the River

Yesterday the Prospector and I took the dogs and drove to the Mokelumne River.

It was a perfect early spring day. The dry winter is deceptively enchanting with its green carpet spreading under the leafless trees, along the banks of the river and over all the hills nearby. We need rain badly. It's going to be a hard summer if the next 6 to 8 weeks doesn't bring us some moisture.
I think about the water situation when I look at this beautiful river.

The river seems to have an endless supply, but is already being held back by the "powers that be", to conserve water for the "drought" year that is expected if it doesn't rain next month. There seems to be so much water but there is such a demand for this precious commodity that every year there is more worry about not having enough.

Cutter is still not use to this huge river and the noise it makes. He pulls away from it and looks to Carl for reassurance.
Then the call of the wild makes them forget the huge, noisy river when they get a scent and start wondering what other animals have been here before them.

I left the dogs with the Prospector and walked out onto the bedrock.

I love being "in" the river, on these huge rocks.
It's like standing on the bones of the earth.

 Bedrock is the layer of solid rock formations below the soil or underneath glacial drift in a particular area. 

 The rock comprising bedrock can be sedimentary, igneous, or metamorphic.

Bedrock is the native rock underlying the surface of the Earth. It's solid and goes nowhere. It's the solid, foundation of the earth's crust.
It feels elemental and secure. When I'm on this huge consolidated rock I feel safe, as if I'm standing on the only ground that will never be moved out from under me.

We walked down to another beach area, called Box Beach, where the water gets deeper and slows down. In the summer this beach is packed with people. Now, it is quiet and serene. 
You can see that people have been here. A small toddler's wading area was built in the water.

And a rope swing is suspended from an oak tree.

There it hangs waiting for the hot days of summer.

Can't you just feel, or remember what it felt like, jumping from a rope swing on a hot summer day?

We walked back to the car, on the road, and past a couple of signs. One warned about the change in flow of the river which can happen quickly and needs to have some forewarning.
It says CAUTION: Flow of river subject to sudden rises. All persons enter channel at their own risk. They are not kidding. I've seen the river go from "You could almost walk across it" to "OMG! What a torrent." It's scary how fast this happens.

The other sign is kind of funny. I guess I have a weird sense of humor. Just drive right in...

The dogs had a great time. We should do this more often. We ALL need the exercise.

Until next time.... goodbye wonderful old tree roots.

Goodbye reflections in glassy water.

Goodbye mud that makes its own art.

And sparkles under melted snow water.

Goodbye old river... until we meet again.